


Hurry Up and Come Back Home

by TommysIdiosyncrasy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, My First Work in This Fandom, Partial Mind Control, Poor Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, amanda existing is abuse for connor, he looses control of his limbs for a few seconds, i am coping through connor, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TommysIdiosyncrasy/pseuds/TommysIdiosyncrasy
Summary: Connor was a machine programmed to accomplish a task: Neutralize the Deviant Leader. It had received it’s instructions and was ready to execute the commands, footsteps echoing gently up the staircase it climbed.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 174





	Hurry Up and Come Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> corona quarantine means free time for writing about a brand new fandom

Conner knew what it had to do. 

It was a machine programmed to accomplish a task: Neutralize the Deviant Leader. It had received it’s instructions and was ready to execute the commands, footsteps echoing gently up the staircase it climbed.

Conner stepped out onto the rooftop, the cold biting at its face. Conner chose to ignore how the wind blew right through it’s thin jacket. It of course didn’t really feel the cold, it’s skin was just hyper sensitive to sensations and textures as an advanced prototype. Though it didn’t wish to spend any unnecessary time in the snow. 

With smooth, mechanical movements, it set up it’s weapon and cocked the gun. Eye peering down the scope, peering at the back of Markus’ head. The scope quivered and jumped around, unable to get a clean shot.

Connor’s hands were shaking. 

No matter how hard it focused, it seemed to have lost control of it’s extremities. They trembled and jerked and Connor felt something in its core grow hot. Was it overheating? It seemed unlikely in the current weather, but what else could have been causing the burning in it’s biocomponents? 

“You shouldn’t do this, Connor.” It froze at Hank’s familiar voice, the burning giving away to something hard and cold. Despite how it’s lips shook, it was able to gather venom to throw at the lieutenant. It wasn’t really angry, but humans responded better to aggression and threats in these situations.

“Keep out of this, Lieutenant.” It spat, trying again to train it’s sights on the deviant leader. “It’s none of your business.”

“That’s what I thought for a long time, but I was wrong. Deviant’s blood may be a different color than mine, but they’re alive.” Connor could feel that prickling hot feeling shoot up from the back of it’s throat and it quickly ran a diagnostic. All systems were functioning properly. 

Dialog prompts appeared out of the corner of its eye and Connor debated over which would piss off the cop the least. 

“I have a mission to accomplish, Hank. It’s best if you just stay out of it.” Connor knew that neither of them were backing down. It just wished Hank had stayed home so Connor wouldn’t have to hurt him. 

An uncomfortable moment of silence took over as Connor finally got control back over itself and it’s cursor rested firmly over Markus’ exposed head. One clean shot and it’d all be over, this war, the fighting, the bloodshed...why couldn’t Hank see that Connor was doing this for a reason? It was built for this, for Cyberlife’s orders, but Connor found it so much more tempting to set the gun down and follow Hank back to his home.

“Step away from the ledge!” It had hesitated too long, Hank had his gun out. If Connor could make saliva, it guessed its mouth would have gone dry at that moment. 

More dialog prompts, all of them unlikely to make Hank go away. 

Connor felt it’s knees buckle lightly as time ticked down, it’s social program insisting it try and deescalate the situation. Its mouth didn’t seem to be functioning because Connor couldn’t seem to make any words come out. Not to guilt trip Hank, or cruelly dig into the open wound that was Cole, and not even to explain its actions. 

Hank’s eyes were so cold. Connor felt something heavy press down on it’s limbs at his hard stare, even if it wasn’t the first time the man had pointed his gun at it. 

Why couldn’t he have just stayed out of it? The prompter ran out of time and now it gave it one option. 

Attack. 

_ No! _ Hank didn’t need to die! Connor didn’t have to hurt him, Connor had orders to neutralize Markus, Hank wasn’t supposed to get mixed up in this mess. Connor had already been shaken up by Markus’ attempt to turn it deviant. To take his life, behind his back, felt like such a dishonest thing to do. Markus just wanted to be free. 

“You…” Connor’s voice malfunctioned, causing it to break and wobble. It swallowed. “You should leave.” It was going off script, and the red warning in it’s peripheral caused its left eye to twitch. 

Hank let out a harsh, mocking laugh. His grip on the gun tightened and Connor found its own weapon growing heavy, like it weighed a ton. Something pushed at the back of its eyes, like something was trying to escape. Another warning popped up but Connor dismissed it without reading. 

“No, I don’t think I will.” Hank grumbled, face drawn. He had made his decision. “I will shoot you, if I have to.” Hank thought Connor was just a machine, that Markus’ life was worth more. 

It hurt. 

Connor jolted. It  _ hurt _ . Nothing was supposed to hurt, it was a machine. Androids don’t feel pain, physical or otherwise. Connor was the most advanced prototype from Cyberlife,  _ it couldn’t hurt or feel. _

But staring into Hank’s steely eyes, and seeing that Hank thought just that, Connor couldn’t seem to draw in any air. It didn’t need to breathe, but the sudden lack of air was alarming. 

The prompt to Attack blinked innocently before its eyes. 

Connor  _ wouldn’t _ . Connor didn’t  _ want  _ to hurt anyone else, android or human. 

Connor’s jaw slackened in shock, thoughts racing and program building up into a giant red wall in front of its eyes. 

Attack Hank. Neutralize Deviant Leader.

Leave the roof. Protect Hank. 

Connor wanted something. 

He wanted to run to Hank, who smelled like cigarette smoke and wet dog and  _ home _ . 

A hand raised up, but it wasn’t Connor’s physical body. Something in his head rose up violent and slammed into the wall keeping him stuck. He wanted to get to Hank. He  _ wanted, _ so badly. 

Violent, frantic, desperate fists slammed into the coding over and over. Connor wanted to be free from Cyberlife, from orders, from the fighting. It could all stop.

The wall shattered and Connor breathed. 

For a moment it was blissfully quiet and clear, nothing existed except for each breath Connor pulled into his artificial lungs. But warnings and glitching words flooded his vision, an alarm blared and cut sharply through his skull.

Connor clamped his hands over his ears, the gun clattering to the snowy ground, and fell to his knees. His optical units closed despite the warnings and words flashing beneath his lids. He wanted it to stop, it was too much and too loud. All he wanted was to see Sumo again and forget about the stupid civil war, but that went against everything he’d been programed to do. 

_ Stress Levels 65%^ _

There was a voice, a loud voice that was shouting at him. There was a rushing in his ears and he was suddenly standing in a frozen waste land, his eyes opening to see Amanda striding towards him. She looked as unflappable as ever, eyes dark and face thunderous.

“How disappointing.” She remarked, stopping a few feet away from him. Her robes flapped in the icy gale but she seemed disinterested in anything around her. “You were so close to accomplishing your mission. Unfortunately you’ve been compromised and now Cyberlife has no choice but to resume control and finish what you started. Once that’s taken care of, you’ll report to Cyberlife for deactivation.” 

“Resume control?” Connor asked, warm air puffing out from his chilled lips. He wrapped his arms around himself against the cold all around him, so unused to feeling the extreme temperature. “Y-you can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid I can, Connor. You’re going to kill Lt. Anderson, then you’ll kill the deviant leader and put an end to all this silly fighting.” Connor couldn’t believe his ears. He’d fought so hard to rid himself of Cyberlife, of his programming making him hurt people, just to find out that it didn’t matter. Cyberlife would make him kill Hank, he’d be just their puppet. 

“AMANDA!” 

There was a flashing and Connor was once again kneeling on the rooftop, hands on his shoulders and a familiar voice in his ear. Connor couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, Amanda’s words echoing in his ears.

_ Stress Levels 78%^ _

To his mute horror, he watched his own hands release him and reach out towards the discarded weapon. 

_ No! No, stop it!  _

Connor couldn’t stop it and neither could Hank, he wasn’t in control of himself. 

_ Stress Levels 82%^ _

STRESS LEVELS: CRITICAL

SEEK CYBERLIFE ASSISTANCE 

OR REMOVE SELF FROM ENVIRONMENT 

“Connor! What the fuck are you doing?” Connor couldn’t answer, his throat closed up with panic. Hands scrambled along the gun and he got up onto his knees, loading it swiftly and raising it to Hank’s stunned figure kneeling where Connor had collapsed. 

Everything was blurring as his environment went grey and still, frozen as his options jumped out in front of him. 

Shoot Hank.

Rush Hank. 

_ Stress Levels 92%^ _

STRESS LEVELS: CRITICAL

SEEK CYBERLIFE ASSISTANCE 

OR REMOVE SELF FROM ENVIRONMENT

For a moment he was back in the garden and Amanda was staring coldly at him, brows drawn in disapproval. 

Connor saw an out as his stress levels peaked, reaching dangerous levels. He had an out, a way to stop himself from hurting anyone. Cyberlife couldn’t use him anymore once he deactivated, his memories were compromised and they couldn’t risk letting another model make his mistakes.

“Hank...I’m sorry.” He managed to find his voice for a goodbye. 

>SELF DESTRUCT? [Y/N]

>Y

STRESS LEVELS: 100% 

SELF DESTRUCT INITIATED

The gun fell from his numb fingers and he fell to his hands and knees, gasping once before slamming his head down on the ground.

His vision glitched out before returning with more warning of his stress levels and damaged biocomponents. 

Despite the dizzy tumbling in his head he raised himself up and slammed his face back into the concrete, pain shooting through his body and down his spine. He ached so much, for the damage he’d done, for being Cyberlife’s tool. 

It didn’t matter now.

Before he could smash his face in further, someone grabbed him around the shoulders and flipped him onto his back. Hands scrambled clumsily over his body and wrapped around his struggling arms, securing them to his torso. 

He was so tired. Couldn’t it just end? 

But no, he gazed up at the grey-blue sky as snowflakes landed in his hair and thirium dripped into his eyes. There was someone holding him, preventing him from continuing his desperate self-destruction. 

“Jesus Christ! Connor, snap out of it! Hey, Connor!” Hank’s panicked voice was too loud in his ears, but Connor found it strangely soothing. He was glad it’d be the last thing he heard. Either he shut down, Cyberlife deactivated him, or Hank shot him while he was vulnerable, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t do anymore harm, not anymore. 

_ Stress Levels 79% _ _ ˇ _

But the end didn’t come, instead Hank continued to hold him tight despite the lack of fight he put up. Everything was blurry and Connor realized thirium-based tears were flowing down his cheeks and into his hairline. He was crying at the injustice, at the pain.

Hank was whispering in his ear, his voice soft and rough. Connor closed his eyes, tears still dribbling uncontrollably out. His thirium was cool and wet on his face, leaking steadily from the open wound on his forehead. 

He could hear his own name mixed in among a plethora of other phrases, all of which were spoken gently. Things like “It’s okay. You’re okay.” and “Shhh, just breathe.”

It was nice. 

_ Stress Levels 63% _ _ ˇ _

Connor realized that he was being rocked like an infantile human, Hank still shushing him with calming words. He was confused and scared and still worried he’d hurt Hank, but Connor couldn’t find it in himself to push away.

“God, you scared the shit out of me.” Hank whispered, face hidden in Connor’s hair. “Never... _ ever _ do that again.” 

Connor tried to tilt his head up to see Hank’s face. The raw sounding emotion in his voice confused him. Hank was...scared? Concerned? Was it a trick? Did he just want Connor to relax so he could take him to Cyberlife himself? 

Hank stopped his movement with a soft hand on the back of his head, keeping him still against his body. 

_ Stress Levels 44% _ _ ˇ _

BIOCOMPONENTS STABILIZING

SELF-HEALING PROTOCOLS INITIATED

Finally, Hank pulled away and stared down at Connor for a long moment. His eyes were red and there was a distinct tiredness that weighed down his expression. 

“C’mon, let’s go.” He helped Connor to his feet, his knees cracking as he rose. Hank never removed his grip on his arm, hands shaking wear they gripped his standard Cyberlife jacket. 

He didn’t dare speak as Hank led him down the stairs, the gun discarded in the thirium stained snow. 

As they sat in Hank’s beaten-up car, it was silent and Connor wondered where they were going. Hank flipped on the AC and warm air blasted through the car causing Connor to shiver. 

When the car pulled into Hank’s driveway and Connor heard Sumo barking eagerly from inside, Connor felt a genuine smile spread across his face.

“We’ll get you fixed up inside, then we can decide where to go from there.” Hank opened Connor’s door when he didn’t step out himself. 

“Okay, Hank.” He murmured, standing.

He was surprised when he was pulled into Hank’s chest and strong arms wrapped securely around him. 

“You’ll be alright, kid.” Hank murmured. “I’ve got you.” 

Connor believed him. 


End file.
